


Harry and Draco are Friends

by shilo1364



Series: Drabbles and Oneshots [7]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book: Frog and Toad Together, Drarry, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, HP: EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Humor, M/M, Marauders, Marauders' Era, kids book AU, linny - Freeform, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-28 21:28:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8463574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shilo1364/pseuds/shilo1364
Summary: A collection of Drarry, Linny, and Wolfstar short one-shots based on stories from kids' books: mostly Frog and Toad, with some stories from George and Martha, The Trip, and Mr. Pig and Sonny Too. Fluff, Humor, and Silliness. Each chapter is a separate story. EWE. Hogwarts Eighth Year and Marauders era.





	1. The Harry Potter Gala Costume Ice-Skating Party

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Drarry story featuring Harry, Draco, and Luna. It is based on the story "Ice Skating" from the children's book: Mr. Pig and Sonny Too.

Draco sat by the fire in the eighth-year common room, his new potions text propped open on his lap. Yawning, stretching, and wondering vaguely how long it was until dinner, he closed the book with a snap. He leaned forward, propping his chin on his closed fist and stared into the flames. They crackled and popped, warming his face and chasing the early December chill from the air.

That was one thing about this room that was better than the Slytherin common room - he could actually get warm in the winter here. In the dungeons, the air was cold and clammy, despite the roaring fire, and Draco had been forced to resort to warming charms almost daily.

He sighed, stretching his feet toward the glowing fireplace, basking in the toasty warmth. Oh, yes. He could get used to this.

He could think of his old house, now, without more than a twinge of sadness - and the one primarily responsible for effecting that change sat on the floor near his feet, tapping the end of her wand absently on her chin as she read some obscure book of magical mythology.

He smiled and settled more comfortably in his chair. “I’m very glad it’s today,” he said.

Luna looked up at him, frowning at her wand and then winding her hair into a knot at the base of her scalp and tucking the wand into it to secure it. “Why are you glad its today, Draco?” she asked curiously, uncrossing her legs and drawing them up in front of her so she could lean her chin on them.

Draco shrugged. “Because if it’s today, then it can’t be tomorrow. And tomorrow is the Harry Potter Gala Costume Ice-Skating Party.”

He hoped that would be enough to satisfy her - surely she could understand his reluctance to attend the ridiculous bash the ministry was putting on for the infuriatingly handsome and oblivious Boy Who Lived Yet Again.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t. She stared at him, unnervingly intent. Draco felt his shoulders slump. “I can’t skate.”

Luna blinked at him. “Really? Why not?”

He frowned. “Father tried to teach me once, but… he said I wasn’t graceful enough.”

Luna frowned. “Draco. If _anyone_ is graceful enough to ice skate, it’s you.”

She jumped to her feet, breaking into a bright smile, and held out her hand to Draco.

He didn’t move; merely raised one eyebrow and waited.

Luna sighed. “Come on, Draco. It’s easy. I’ll show you.”

“I don’t have any skates.” It was a flimsy excuse, and he knew it.

She rolled her eyes. “ _Accio_ Draco’s winter clothes.”

His scarf, gloves, and hat with furry earflaps whizzed through the air toward them, along with his winter coat. Luna grinned and piled them all on top of him. “Put these on.”

“But…”

“Now, Draco.”

Draco put them on. Then he allowed Luna to drag him through the castle and out to the lake, which had been magically frozen over in preparation for the event. When they reached the shore, Luna retrieved her wand from her hair and transfigured their shoes into skates with gleaming metal blades. It was a beautiful piece of transfiguration, and Draco was, as always, impressed with her skill.

A gust of wind chose that moment to lift his earflaps, whistle in his ears, and whip his scarf around his head.

“Mhmmhmph,” he said.

“Draco,” Luna admonished him, “How do you expect me to understand you when you have your scarf wrapped around your face?”

Draco sighed and unwrapped the scarf. “I don’t think I want to learn,” he said, when he’d freed his mouth from the clinging wool. “I would really rather sit by the fire. Where it’s nice and warm. And dry.”

“Skating is fun,” said Luna. It makes you warm and rosy. You’ll see.”

“All right,” said Draco, giving in once more. “Show me.”

Luna took his hand and helped him onto the ice. When he was steady enough that he thought he most likely wouldn’t fall in a heap, she gently pried his fingers loose from around her wrist and glided gracefully away. Then she turned, continuing to skate backward, “first, you slide on one skate. Then you slide on the other,” she said. “Good! Now, slide on both together!”

Draco slid on both skates, but they didn’t stay together. One skate slid out on one side, the other slid out on the other side, and Draco sat down very hard in the middle.

“Ouch,” he grumbled. “I don’t like skating. It hurts my back.”

Luna pursed her lips, studying him. “I’ll tie a pillow on you,” she said finally, “so it won’t hurt when you fall.”

“Wait, Luna —“ said Draco, but it was too late. Luna had transfigured a pillow and rope and was knotting the rope securely around his middle.

“There,” she said. “Now, try again.”

Draco tried again. This time, his skates crossed each other, and he fell face-down in a puddle.

“Now my front is all wet,” he grumbled, “and I’m cold. The wind is nipping my nose, I’m going to sneeze, and I’m quite sure I’m catching my death of cold. Can we _please_ just go back and sit in front of the fire?”

Luna frowned at him. “No. If you want to impress Harry tomorrow, then you need to learn how to skate.”

“But what makes you think I want to impress Harry?”

Luna stared at him, pale eyebrows rising nearly to her hairline. Draco sighed.

“Fine.”

“Here,” said Luna, transfiguring a stray leaf into a patchwork quilt. This will keep you warm.”

She wrapped the quilt around him, tying it securely. “Now,” she said, “try again.”

Draco slid forward on one foot. Then he slid forward on the other. Soon, he was slipping and sliding and gliding on the ice - not gracefully, exactly, but not falling over either.

“This is fun!” he yelled.

Suddenly, the mischievous wind lifted the blanket high above his head. Draco went flying over the ice, the blanket billowing like a sail. The wind twisted his scarf around him and lifted his hat completely off his head.

“Help!” Draco screeched, “Luna! I can’t stop! Do something!”

But before she could do anything, the wind tickled his nose, and he sneezed, losing his balance and tumbling in a heap.

“Draco!” called Harry, who was walking past the pond on his way back from the quidditch pitch, “I didn’t know you could skate! Are you practicing for the party?”

“AH-KA-CHOO!” sneezed Draco.

“What an unusual costume,” said Harry, as he and Luna joined Draco on the ice and hauled him to his feet. “Whatever made you dress up as a bed?”

“AH-KA-CHOO!” sneezed Draco.

Harry looked at Luna, concerned.

“I think he’s caught a cold,” she said, “We’d best get him back inside and dry him off.”

They settled Draco in front of the fire, peeling off his wet clothes - Draco fiercely pretended that he wasn’t blushing - and wrapped him in the fluffiest bathrobe he had ever seen. Luna said it was a Crumple-Horned Snorkak pelt, and he didn’t have the energy to try to argue.

Then Luna ran off to fetch a pepper-up potion from Madam Pomfrey, and Harry tucked Draco into his favorite cozy chair, under a mountain of blankets. Luna returned with the potion, as well as tea and biscuits for the three of them, and they spent a pleasant afternoon and evening together. Luna and Harry took turns telling stories and reading from a ridiculous muggle novel Hermione had brought with her, and Draco forgot to be grumpy about the cold.

The next day, everyone went to the Gala - everyone but Draco and Luna. Not long after it had started, Harry stepped sheepishly into the common room holding a giant chocolate cake. Draco broke off mid-sentence and sat up, eying the cake avidly. He _loved_ chocolate.

Harry laughed and presented it to him, blushing slightly.

“Why are you giving me cake?” Draco asked, puzzled. “Not that I’m complaining, mind.”

Harry turned redder. “You, ah, won the costume contest.”

“How did I do that? I wasn’t even there.”

“Well,” Harry scratched the back of his neck, looking everywhere but at Draco. “They made me judge the costume contest. And so I said that I saw your costume yesterday, and it was definitely the most creative, and so I explained you weren’t there to claim your prize because you’d gotten a cold practicing for the party, and then they let me go give it to you.”

He looked up at Draco then, defiant. “And I’m not going back. I didn’t want the stupid party, anyway, but the Ministry insisted, and—”

“You won’t get any argument from me,” Draco said. “Now are we going to eat that or not? Because it looks divine.”

Harry grinned and presented the cake to him with a flourish. Luna, who had disappeared without either of them noticing, returned with plates and forks and a knife to cut it with.

“I’m very glad tomorrow is today,” Draco said to Luna, around a mouthful of cake, stretching his toes toward the fire.

Harry, who’d insisted on sharing Draco’s chair because he said it was the comfiest chair in the room, lifted his head from Draco’s shoulder to say, “me, too,” and twined their fingers together. Then he stole a bite of Draco’s cake.

THE END


	2. Chocolate Cookies (Wolfstar)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story features Remus and Sirius, during their later school years - 6th, maybe? - and is based on the story "Cookies" from Frog and Toad Together.

 

Sirius woke to the sound of rain splashing on the windows and pounding on the roof of the Gryffindor boys dormitory. He threw back the covers and rushed to the window, groaning at what he saw. Heavy clouds hung low over the Forbidden Forest, dumping buckets of rain, and wind lashed the branches. The surface of the lake churned with wind-whipped froth. He opened the window and stuck his hand out to double-check, just in case his eyes were deceiving him. They weren’t. He pulled it back in, shaking off the icy runnels of water and grimacing.

The quidditch pitch was a mire of churned mud, and he could see the yellow-slicker adorned figure of Madam Hooch studying it, hands on her hips. He didn’t need to see her expression to know what she was thinking.

There would be no pick-up quidditch today.

Sirius groaned again. “Moons!” he shouted. “It’s _raining._ ”

Remus blinked blearily at him. “Pads,” he rasped, “I could tell that for myself, by the noise. Now go back to bed like a reasonable person and shut the bloody window before we all drown!”

“Prongs!” Sirius appealed to their dorm mate, knowing James was more likely to be up and about this early.

Silence.

“Prongs?” Sirius looked around the dormitory, suddenly realizing how empty it was. “Where did he go?”

Remus muttered something under his breath. Sirius only caught a few words - “Date, Lily, Hogsmeade” - but it was enough.

“What about Peter?”

Remus shrugged. “Detention, I think? Or maybe an extra credit project.” He tugged the covers up to his chin, snuggling deeper into his bed and yawning. “I didn’t really pay attention.”

“But, Moons!” Sirius wailed, “It’s Saturday. What will I _do_?”

Remus groaned. “I don’t _care_ , Pads, so long as you go away and do it somewhere else and leave me in peace.” He pulled his pillow over his head, unusually pale and bruised hand shaking slightly.

Sirius immediately felt guilty. He should have remembered. It had been full moon a few days ago, and Remus always took a few days to recover. He needed to sleep.

Sirius considered going back to bed himself, but he was far too awake for that. He frowned, then snapped his fingers. He could make something for Remus, to cheer him up. But what? What would Remus like best?

The answer came almost instantly. _Chocolate_. Remus practically lived on the stuff, especially just before and after the full moon. Well. That was easy enough. But not just any chocolate. Instructing the house-elves to make something wouldn’t satisfy his need to _do_ something.

Decided, Sirius fished some clothes off the floor that he thought were mostly clean. Probably. He shrugged and threw them on. Laundry could wait. He had more important things to do. He slipped out of the dormitory and bounced down through the common room - full of small knots of students using the forced confinement to catch up on their work, which was, in Sirius’ mind, a fate worse than boredom - to the kitchens.

* * *

Some hours later, a slightly sweaty and disheveled Sirius carefully removed his latest attempt from the oven. The house-elves had, after much hand-wringing and ear-pulling, been convinced to let him use the kitchen, though they watched him suspiciously from a distance. Some had even gotten brave enough to shake their heads and sigh over his… less-than-stellar results.

But he had a good feeling about this batch.

He waited barely long enough for them to cool, snatching one off the pan and waving it around before bringing it to his nose and taking a cautious sniff. “These cookies smell good,” he said hopefully. Then, closing his eyes, he took a bite… and broke into a grin.

He had been right. “They taste even better!” he exclaimed happily. He scooped them off the pan and into a bowl, shouted a quick “Thanks - I’ll be back to clean up the mess in a bit!” over his shoulder at the bemused house-elves, and rushed up the stairs, taking them two-at-a-time.

He barged into their dorm a few minutes later, panting slightly. “Moons!” he shouted, “Moons! You have to taste these cookies!”

Remus poked his head out from under his pillow, blinking blearily. “Pads,” he said, exasperated, “what on earth are you—“

“Cookies!” Sirius said, thrusting the bowl under Remus’ nose. “ _Chocolate_ cookies.”

Remus perked up immediately. “Chocolate?” he asked, already reaching for the bowl.

Sirius grinned.

Then Remus’ hand paused. “Pads,” he said suspiciously, “did _you_ make these cookies?”

Sirius nodded. “But they’re good, Moons, promise!”

Remus hesitated, expression conflicted. “I didn’t know you knew how to bake.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Moons, I have been making cookies _all morning_. They’re good, I promise.”

“It took you all morning to make cookies?” Remus raised one eyebrow, wan but amused.

“Good cookies, yes. The bad ones are still in the kitchen.”

Remus snorted. “Fine.” He selected a cookie, studied it suspiciously, then gingerly took a bite. His expression brightened immediately. “These are the best cookies I’ve ever eaten!” he exclaimed. “Pads, you’re a genius!”

Sirius grinned. “Thank you. Now, budge up.”

Remus shifted so he was sitting cross-legged on his bed, and Sirius climbed in beside him. Remus wrapped the blankets around them both, and, together, they ate the cookies.

“You know, Pads,” Remus said, chasing a streak of chocolate across his lip with his tongue, “I think we should probably stop eating, or we’ll soon be sick.”

“You’re right,” sighed Sirius. “But, lets eat one last cookie. Then we’ll stop.”

They ate one last cookie.

Sirius stared into the bowl. There were still many cookies left.

“Moons,” said Sirius, “let us eat one _very_ last cookie. Then we'll stop.”

They ate one _very_ last cookie.

“We must stop eating!” cried Sirius, as he ate another.

“Yes,” said Remus, reaching for another cookie. “We need willpower.”

“What is willpower?” asked Sirius.

“Willpower is trying hard _not_ to do something that you really want to do,” said Remus. “You don’t have any, in case you were wondering, so I’m not surprised you don’t know.”

“You mean like trying _not_ to eat all of these cookies?” asked Sirius.

“Exactly,” said Remus.

Remus leaned over and rummaged under his bed. He pulled out a box marked “Moony” in Lily’s neat script, from the last time she’d tidied up their room. He shrugged, dumped the contents on the floor, and put the cookies in the box. “There,” he said, closing the lid with a snap, “Now we won't eat any more cookies.”

“But, Moons, we can open the box,” protested Sirius.

“That’s true,” said Remus. He fished some string out of the pile of things he’d dumped out of the box and tied it around the outside. “There,” he said. “Now we won’t eat any more cookies.”

“But we can cut the string and open the box,” said Sirius, frowning. “How will that stop us?”

“That’s true,” said Remus. He looked around the room, then transfigured a pair of Sirius’ socks into a ladder. He climbed up and stuck the box to the ceiling with a sticking charm. “There,” he said. “Now we won't eat any more cookies.”

“But we can climb the ladder and take the box down and cut the string and open the box,” said Sirius. “Or just use Prongs’ broom, if we can find it.” He frowned around at the mess, trying to remember where he’d seen the broom last. He was sure James had had it just the other day, and he wouldn’t have taken it out on a day like today, surely, which meant it was most likely somewhere in the room.

“That’s true,” said Remus. He climbed the ladder and took the box down. He cut the string and opened the box. He took out the bowl of cookies, and carried it to the door.

“Where are you going?” asked Sirius, trailing after him and looking longingly at the cookies.

“You’ll see,” said Remus. He carried the cookies down to the common room and put them on a table. Then he put two fingers to his lips and let out a shill whistle.

Sirius covered his ears. “Ow! Moons!”

Remus ignored him. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “FREE COOKIES!”

All of the students who had been studying or chatting or lounging about playing gobstones and exploding snap suddenly swarmed the table. When the crowd thinned and Sirius could see the bowl again, it was empty. The cookies were gone.

“Now we have no more cookies to eat,” said Sirius sadly. “Not even one.”

“Yes,” said Remus, patting his back sympathetically. “But we have lots and lots of willpower.”

“You may keep it all, Moons,” said Sirius, picking up the bowl and heading for the door. “I’m going to bake a cake.”

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed, and feel free to come say hi on [tumblr](https://whimsicaldragonette.tumblr.com/)


End file.
